


You Shouldn't Want Me

by Sybilina



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, PWP without Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-25 22:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/643409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sybilina/pseuds/Sybilina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has a thing about regret.  He doesn't like it.  So even when he's slightly terrified of the outcome, he makes sure to say the things that need saying before the time comes when he can't say them anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Shouldn't Want Me

Stiles didn’t expect Derek to answer the door right away. He was actually hoping Derek would be annoyed with him, for some unknown, Derek-y reason, and not answer at all. Which was pretty silly of Stiles to think, considering all Derek had done for him the last week.

His father had been shot on the job. In the head, no less. Miraculously, he hadn’t died, but the shock and everything had kept him unconscious for a few days. Stiles refused to leave, refused to eat, barely slept. He probably smelled to high heaven but he refused anything more than a quick bathroom break here and there to wash his hands and brush his teeth. After the third day, Derek had shown up. He’d practically forced him to go home, made him eat, and stood watch over him until exhaustion claimed him and he’d fallen into a fitful sleep. Every time he woke up, Derek was there, shaking his head as if saying, “You haven’t slept enough, try again.”

For three days, Derek had kept watch over him, letting him go to the hospital to sit by his father during the day and making him go home to tend to his own needs at night. Stiles was pretty sure Derek would have gotten sick of him after all that time.

Yet there he was, opening the door after he’d only given it one rap. He had to catch himself from hitting only air the second time, or worse, Derek’s face.

“Jeez, let a guy get through an entire knock before you do that, would you?” That wasn’t exactly how he wanted to start this conversation.

Derek glared at him, a mixture of annoyance and boredom from the way he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame. “What do you want, Stiles?”

Stiles waved his arms a little, not as exuberantly as he sometimes did but enough to show how flustered he was. “Can I come in?” he asked finally, after some floundering.

“No.”

Stiles huffed. “Why not?”

“I’m in the middle of shampooing the rug.”

Stiles stared at him for a moment, stunned. “You don’t have a rug.” When Derek rolled his eyes and sighed, Stiles let out a laugh. “You made a joke.”

“What. Do you want.”

Stiles really shouldn’t have been surprised at the way the conversation was going. It wasn’t like he and Derek had full, civilized, rational conversations, like, ever. Even the last week, when Derek had kept watch over him, Stiles had barely spoken. 

He must have been delusional to think this conversation would go over with any semblance of smooth.

But he needed to do this, he needed to say what he needed to say. Stiles wasn’t the type to back down from something once he had his mind set on it. And this was important.

“I wanted to thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Bye.” Derek started to shut the door and Stiles put his foot in the way to stop it. In retrospect, it was a really stupid move. If Derek wanted to, he could have done serious damage to Stiles’ foot right then.

“Seriously, Derek,” Stiles said, raising his voice. “Can you at least let me get through what I wanted to say? It’s not easy thanking a werewolf, especially one as annoying as you are, but I’m here, I drove all the way out here to say something and, god damn it, I’d like to look you in the eye when I say it.”

Derek opened the door back up all the way and stared at Stiles with something akin to interest. Stiles wasn’t sure the last time Derek showed interest in anything so he wasn’t entirely sure.

Stiles took a deep breath before starting. “Last week, you were there for me. When Scott didn’t even know there was something wrong, you were there. I’ve kind of doubted my role in the Pack, and maybe I still don’t have a role, but I know I’m important, to some degree, or you wouldn’t have done that. Maybe you were just paying me back for the pool, or for almost cutting your arm off for you, or whatever. But you were there. I’m not sure what would have happened, how long I would have stayed at the hospital, if you hadn’t come.” He could barely even remember when Derek had showed up, next to his father’s hospital bed. The only way Derek had gotten through to Stiles was by mentioning that Scott and Erica would keep watch outside the window. Also, the tone Derek had used sliced through Stiles’ hazy mind – he had sounded gentle, soothing. Even when he had threatened to carry Stiles out of the hospital kicking and screaming, he had said it in a gentle, yet determined, way that left no room for doubt.

Stiles looked down at the ground and kicked the door frame. It rattled uneasily.

Then he looked back up and met Derek’s eyes. “Seriously. Thank you.”

Derek gave a small nod and he seemed, for the first time Stiles could remember, uneasy. Uncomfortable, even. “Like I said, you’re welcome, Stiles. Is that all?”

“No,” he said quickly. That was just the easy part. “There’s more.”

Derek sighed but stayed silent, patiently waiting for Stiles to go on.

He took another deep breath before continuing. “When my mom died, I felt this… sense of regret. I mean, I was just a kid. What kid knows how to deal with death, you know? But I just felt this… overwhelming sense that I should have done more, I should have said more. I should have told her I loved her one more time. I should have told her I’d be okay. That I’d take care of Dad. That she was a good mom. And it sucks because she’s dead and I’ll never get that chance again. Last week, when my dad was in the hospital, I got that… that lesson all over again. If he had died, I don’t know… I felt regret that I hadn’t told him. About werewolves, about Scott, about Jackson being the kanima. I regretted not telling him the reasoning behind everything. I regretted not apologizing for making him lose his job. I just felt like I had so much more left to say to him, you know?”

“Stiles, if you want to tell your dad about werewolves, fine. Do it.”

He blinked and shook his head. “No, that’s not… I mean, okay, yeah, that’s part of it. I wasn’t really asking for permission, though. I was going to do it with or without.”

“So what are you trying to say, Stiles?” Derek asked, his exasperation finally coming through.

“I like you!” He hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that but he wasn’t going to try to hold back now. “Like like you. And maybe that’s stupid. Maybe I’m stupid. Lydia didn’t want me and she’s straight, why would a guy like you want me? I get it. And after this conversation, you have every right, in fact, I kind of hope that you will forget this ever happened. You can go on doing whatever you’re doing, being the Alpha, pushing everyone around, yelling at me and getting in my face when I annoy you, whatever. I swear I will tamp down this feeling and never speak of it again. And hopefully this won’t ruin whatever it is we might have… whatever it is that is here. Whatever it was that made you drag me home so I could eat and sleep and shower last week. But the thing is, I’m not going to regret not saying this. You could die. I could die. Today. Tomorrow. Next week. And I’m not going to let that happen without at least telling you. You don’t need to do anything with this information but I had to tell you. For me. And maybe that’s selfish but I don’t care. I’m not going to die or let you die without having told you.” 

He sighed, trying to ease the tension from his shoulders, but he could feel panic worming its way up and around his stomach and lungs. He’d spent hours convincing himself that Derek wouldn’t hurt him or kill him for telling him this but a part of him kept going over the multiple deaths and attacks in the news regarding gay men. And that was human vs. human. If Derek wanted to kill him, Stiles wouldn’t even see it coming. Then again, maybe that would be a blessing.

“So… so there. That’s… it. I’m done. I’ll um… I’ll leave you… to… shampoo your rug… and stuff. Bye.”

Turning to leave, he flinched when he felt a tug on his arm. He jerked around to see Derek snatch his hand back. “You like someone you’re terrified of, Stiles?”

“It seems to be what turns me on,” he said with a nervous chuckle. Then he had a thought. “Not… not because you’re a werewolf. That doesn’t bother me. Lydia terrifies me. You terrify me not because you’re a werewolf but because you’re a guy. A straight guy.”

“Who said I’m straight?”

Stiles froze.

Derek’s eyes seemed to dance with amusement but his lips stayed in a straight line. “For the record, I’m not. But also for the record, I’m twenty-four years old.”

“Um. Congratulations?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Meaning I’m way too old for you.”

“I wouldn’t say way too old. Or are you saying you think I’m immature and not worthy for someone as refined and responsible as you?”

“Considering your age, you’re actually pretty mature. Spastic, but mature.”

He rolled his eyes, not in annoyance but in thought. Was that a compliment or an insult or both? “So… the age factor… irrelevant?”

“Not quite,” he said sardonically, an eyebrow raised. “I am still a person of interest, if you’ll remember. Your father is the Sheriff. And a relationship of a romantic sort between the two of us would actually be considered illegal in the state of California.”

It took a moment for it all to sink in. Derek wasn’t saying no because he was straight. In fact, he just said that he wasn’t straight. He wasn’t saying no because he didn’t have feelings for Stiles, in fact, he said that Stiles was pretty mature for his age. Not that that was a direct link to romantic feelings but it sure wasn’t a denial of them. Derek wasn’t even actually saying no. “No,” Stiles said weakly, “a sexual relationship would be considered illegal.” He wasn’t sure why that was what chose to escape his lips but no other sentences would form, so he figured it was good enough.

“So you’re saying you’d be totally cool dating an older man but not having sex with him for two years?”

“No,” he said, his voice gaining strength. “I’m saying I’d be totally cool dating you but not having sex for two years. Well, a year and two months.”

It took a moment for that to sink in for Derek, Stiles could tell. When it finally did, Derek cocked his head to the side, seemingly flabbergasted. “Stiles, I’m a werewolf. I’m older. I’m annoying, as you said. I have baggage, as you well know. I don’t even have a stable living arrangement,” he said, gesturing to the house around them. “What can you possibly see in me to make you think this is a good idea?”

“You came last week. When no one else did, you came and took care of me when I needed someone the most. You’re strong. I don’t know anyone who could live through losing every single one of their family members and still have the strength to continue, to live in the very house they died in. I don’t know anyone who can seem annoyed and angry while at the same time exhibit such loyal and loving emotions as you. Shut up, I’ve seen the way you train with your betas. You act like they’re a nuisance but you spend every minute of your day training them and answering their questions. No matter how much damage is done to you, you still have this… I can’t help but sound cheesy here, but this spark. You have a spark in you, Derek. And I really like that. I want to spend more time with you. I want to see you smile more. I want to annoy you a lot more because, no matter how much I annoy you, you don’t leave. I like being around you.”

Derek’s eyebrows were furrowed and he seemed so lost, Stiles wanted to put his arms around him. “There’s nothing for you here, Stiles. I don’t know what it is you see but you’re hallucinating.”

Stiles shook his head. “There is so something.” Stiles swallowed. “Tell me you don’t want it. Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me I don’t matter. Tell me you don’t even want to kiss, just to see.”

And then Derek was looking at his lips, licking his own, and Stiles couldn’t hold back anymore. He crossed the distance and found Derek’s lips with his own. He knew that if Derek hadn’t wanted it, his werewolf speed could have put him across the room before Stiles had even completed his step. But he didn’t.

It was close-mouthed and chaste and when Stiles pulled back, Derek stood shock still, tense and unmoving. Stiles wondered if he should be afraid but he couldn’t find it in himself to bring fear to the surface. Derek might shove him against walls and slam his head against the steering wheel, but even during those times, he seemed almost gentle about it.

“You shouldn’t want me,” Derek whispered.

“But I do,” Stiles whispered back.

Then Derek’s arms were around Stiles, hands splayed across his back, and he twisted them so he could push Stiles against the doorframe. Stiles should have seen that coming.

This kiss wasn’t nearly as chaste as the first.


End file.
